


In The Dead Of Night

by magicpiano



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Back Together, Healthy Communication, Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past friends with benefits, Pining Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27442759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicpiano/pseuds/magicpiano
Summary: “Just… Don’t say I told you so, okay? I already know.”There was a moment of silence as the air stilled. All Enjolras could hear was the sound of his own breathing echoing into the night.“I wasn’t going to.” Grantaire said quietly.Or, after a political defeat Enjolras and Grantaire have a conversation.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 109
Collections: Enjoltaire Games 2020





	In The Dead Of Night

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains, alcohol as a coping mechanism, discussion of past alcoholism, and almost sex in which one party is drunk (no actual sex occures because of this). Please read with caution. 
> 
> Betaed by [Elia](https://demourir.tumblr.com/).
> 
>  **Team:** Enjolras  
>  **Theme:** Home  
>  **Prompt:** [Walk Me Home by P!nk](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1OsKJW51HY&pbjreload=101)

_There's somethin' in the way you roll your eyes_

_Takes me back to a better time_

_When I saw everything is good_

_But now you're the only thing that's good_

_Tryna stand up on my own two feet_

_This conversation ain't coming easily_

_And darlin', I know it's getting late_

_So what do you say we leave this place?_

_\- Walk Me Home by P!nk_

“Enjolras! Thank God I found you!”

Enjolras looked up from the ground at the sound of Grantaire’s voice.

“Grantaire.”

Grantaire skidded to a stop in front of Enjolras. Worry was written all over his features. His face was flushed red from the bitter cold.

“Are you okay?” Grantaire placed his hands on Enjolras’ shoulders as his eyes darted across Enjolras’ body, looking for signs of injury. Finding none, Grantaire breathed a heavy sigh of relief and asked, “Where have you been?”

Enjolras shrugged. “Around.”

Grantaire seemed to notice the slight slur in Enjolras’ voice as his eyes slid off of Enjolras’ form and towards the bottle sitting on the bench next to him. “Enjolras, are you drunk?”

Grantaire’s voice was gentle, a statement more than an accusation, but even so Enjolras bristled.

“No!” Enjolras pushed Grantaire’s hands off of his shoulders and immediately felt the warmth that Grantaire brought with him drain away. He hadn’t even noticed how cold it had gotten till right then. “Well, maybe a bit,” he conceded.

Enjolras picked up the bottle beside him and gave it a swish to see how much he had drunk. It was emptier than he thought it would be. He was distantly aware that getting drunk in a park when it was this cold was something Combeferre would yell at him over, but he couldn’t bring himself to care right then.

It didn’t seem like Grantaire was really listening to Enjolras’ answers to his questions because he was doing something on his phone instead. Enjolras tried not to sound bitter at being ignored but the words rang dry as they came out of his mouth anyway. “What are you doing?”

“Telling the group chat to call off the search,” Grantaire answered without even looking back to Enjolras.

“The search?” Enjolras asked. He didn’t know what time it was, only that it was late. He couldn’t imagine what Grantaire had been looking for at this time of night.

“Yes Enjolras, the search.” Grantaire sighed as he looked back to Enjolras, tucking his phone into his pocket. “We have all been worried, you just disappeared without saying anything.”

It was then that Enjolras recalled how he had gotten there. “Oh shit.” Grantaire had been out looking for _him_. Everyone had apparently been out looking for him. A burst of hot shame ran through him, making him shiver. “I didn’t mean to- I was going to come back in a few minutes.”

For some reason this reason seemed to make Grantaire’s frown deepen. “It’s been three hours, Enjolras.”

Grantaire reached out, pressing his hand to Enjolras’s forehead. The soft touch made Enjolras hungry for the things he knew he couldn’t have. Grantaire wasn’t interested in him like that. He had said as much already.

“You lost track of time. How much did you drink?” Grantaire asked and Enjolras hated himself for being responsible for the worry in Grantaire’s voice. “Are you feeling sick?”

Enjolras didn’t have it in him to think about Grantaire’s touch and what he wanted it to mean, so he shook his head and brought his mind back to the friends he had let down.

“Are they mad at me?” Enjolras asked hesitantly.

Grantaire’s hand was still there, hovering over Enjolras’ forehead. His finger moved slightly, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear. “No one is mad at you, just worried.”

“I’m sorry.” Feuilly had work early tomorrow and Joly’s leg pain always flared up in the cold, yet they were all out here looking for him. Enjolras couldn’t properly think of a word to encapsulate his guilt. “Will you tell them I am sorry?”

Enjolras would pull out his phone and text them himself, but he wasn’t quite ready to see their worried texts. Besides, his vision was a bit blurry and he wasn’t completely sure that he would be able to type correctly at that moment.

Luckily, Grantaire seemed to understand and gave him a reassuring smile. “Sure,” he said, tugging his phone back out of his pocket. “But you can tell them yourself at our meeting tomorrow when we go over everything.”

A deep dread settled in Enjolras’ bones. “Please don’t remind me.”

“Of the meeting?”

Enjolras brought his legs up onto the bench, the heels of his boots clicking between the wooden planks. He couldn’t stand to look at Grantaire right now. He knew what was coming and he couldn’t face it. That is why he had run off in the first place.

“Of our failure,” Enjolras muttered, his voice barely audible because his face was pushed up against the fabric of his pants. “Just… Don’t say I told you so, okay? I already know.”

There was a moment of silence as the air stilled. All Enjolras could hear was the sound of his own breathing echoing into the night.

“I wasn’t going to.” Grantaire said quietly.

Immediately Enjolras realized how sad Grantaire sounded, as if Enjolras’ comment had taken whatever energy he still had out of him. Immediately, Enjolras wanted to take the words back. He wasn’t sure why he had said that. He and Grantaire had been getting along so much better lately. They seldom argued like they used to, but rather discussed matters. They listened to each other. Enjolras wasn’t sure why he had thought Grantaire would say something as cruel as ‘I told you so.’

Enjolras lifted his head up from his knees, but before he could apologize, Grantaire cut in to ask, “Is that why you decided to get drunk? The result of the vote?”

The reminder of the vote’s outcome made Enjolras’ lips curl in disgust. “I just wanted to stop caring for a while.”

“Did it work?” Grantaire asked, no sign of judgement in his voice.

Enjolras shook his head. Grantaire gave him a small, sorry smile as if he had expected that response. “In my experience, being drunk doesn’t make you stop caring.”

Enjolras huffed out in aggravation. Grantaire might have been right, but that didn’t mean that Enjolras wanted to hear it. “You would know, wouldn’t you.”

It was a cruel thing to say, by far the worst thing he had said to Grantaire in at least a year. A few years ago, Grantaire would have given as good as he got, would have tossed out an insult as cruel and pointed as possible. He had always been good at knowing where to find Enjolras’ buttons and how to press them. But Grantaire didn’t do anything like that, instead he gave out a self-deprecating chuckle.

“Yeah, I would know,” he said, reaching out to pluck the bottle from Enjolras’ hands.

A sudden horrific fear overtook Enjolras. The bottle had become a comfort, an anchor to reality, even if only a temporary one. He reached out to try and take the bottle back, but Grantaire pulled it out of his range. Enjolras nearly tumbled off of the bench in an attempt to follow the bottle. Grantaire’s quick reflexes and strong grip were the only thing that kept Enjolras from falling face first into the sidewalk.

“I think you have had enough for the night.” Grantaire gave a hollow laugh.

Enjolras looked up at Grantaire holding that damned bottle, a fake smile on his lips, and Enjolras saw a horrible vision of the future. Grantaire had worked so hard to get to where he was now. Enjolras hadn’t been privy to the details, but he knew conquering addiction was no easy feat, and yet Grantaire had done it. He had fought and struggled and came out the other side. He had blossomed into the person Enjolras always knew he could be. He was happier now; his smiles were more genuine, and joy blossomed in Enjolras’ chest every time he saw it.

But that was all going to end. Grantaire was going to start drinking again, he was going to lose the job he actually kind of liked, he was going to go back to pushing them away, he was going to vanish for a month again. The fear was sobering.

“No! Shit, Grantaire, I didn’t mean that.” Enjolras clung to Grantaire’s arms as he pleaded. “Please don’t-”

Somehow, Grantaire seemed to understand the situation Enjolras’ drunken mind had concocted. He took mercy on Enjolras and cut off his spiel with a comforting squeeze. “I am not going to start drinking again just because you said something mean to me, Enjolras.”

Of course he wouldn’t. It was obvious now. Enjolras’ words had never mattered much to Grantaire. It was a stupid thing to even think, he realized that now that Grantaire said it, but moments ago his hazy mind had been so sure that his mistake had been enough to send Grantaire right back into the deep end.

Realizing his mistake, Enjolras let go of Grantaire’s arm. His hands seemed to burn from the loss of contact.

“I didn’t mean to imply you would, I just…” Enjolras’ voice trailed off as Grantaire walked away from him to the nearby trash can.

“We all say dumb shit when we are drunk.” Grantaire said as he tossed the bottle into the bin. Enjolras heard the sound of the glass hit the bottom, echoing out into the empty park. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me.” 

Their relationship had gotten better. They talked to each other now, and when they said hurtful things they apologized. Enjolras wouldn’t let being a bit drunk put a stop to the progress they had made.

“You don’t need to apologize.” Grantaire waved the apology off as he walked back to where Enjolras was sitting. “I have said much worse to you drunk.”

“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t apologize,” Enjolras argued. He bit his lip as he realized he was about to fight with Grantaire about apologizing. Surely that wasn’t the best way to ask for forgiveness. Enjolras took a steadying breath and said gently, but firmly, “I shouldn’t have mocked you like that.”

Grantaire had a real smile on his face again. Enjolras couldn’t fathom why, but he was glad to see it. “You're forgiven.”

There was a warm hand on Enjolras’ back. Grantaire was touching him more tonight than he had in the last three months combined. It was almost the kind of closeness Enjolras wanted, yet not at all.

“Come on.” Grantaire patted Enjolras’ back in an attempt to encourage him to stand up. “It is late and you are drunk. It’s time to go home.”

Enjolras scrunched up his nose. After today, the word ‘home’ put a bitter taste in Enjolras’ mouth. “I don’t want to go home.”

“The alcohol might have you feeling like you can take on the world right now, but I promise it won’t last. If the cold doesn’t get you, then the rabid raccoons will.” Enjolras didn’t feel like taking on the world right now, in fact he felt rather sick. It was hard to be upset though, because Grantaire’s hand had started running small circles across his back. The movement was so soothing Enjolras thought that he could fall asleep right there if Grantaire let him. “Let’s get you home.”

“Thank you for your concern. You can go if you want, but I am going to stay here.” Enjolras said firmly. As if in direct response to his declaration of intent to remain where he was, the wind picked up blowing a blast of cold air at him. Enjolras’ lip quivered, but he didn’t change his mind.

“I am not leaving you alone like this.” Grantaire almost sounded offended at the implication that he leave, but Enjolras wasn’t thinking about that. All he could think about was his failure and what it would mean to so many people.

“I’m not going home!” Enjolras snapped. He looked up and met Grantaire’s gaze. Enjolras could see how desperately Grantaire wanted to understand and how little sense he was obviously making. Enjolras huffed, deflating back into the bench. “I am not going home. Not when other people can’t.”

“Oh, Enjolras…” there was a bit of water pooling in Grantaire’s eyes and Enjolras knew that he finally understood what Enjolras was doing out here alone in the cold. Grantaire sat down on the bench beside him and enveloped him in a warm hug.

It had been a long time since they had been so close. Enjolras could remember vividly the last time he had been allowed to press his face against Grantaire’s chest. It was the night he confessed his feelings, the same night Grantaire turned him down. That was years ago now and Grantaire’s caress was a long distant memory.

Enjolras knew this embrace was just a courtesy, a passing moment of kindness. It was an offer of comfort to a sad friend. Even so, Enjolras was determined to get as much out of the experience as possible. Luckily Grantaire didn’t object to Enjolras wrapping his arms around his neck and snuggling closer.

Grantaire petted Enjolras’ hair softly as he allowed him another moment to mourn the outcome of the vote today.

After a minute of silence Grantaire said, almost in a whisper, “Spending the night on a park bench isn’t going to help anyone, you know.”

The part of Enjolras’ brain still capable of logical thought recognized the truth in Grantaire’s words, but he found he cared very little. Going home meant thinking about his failure, and above all it meant having to leave Grantaire’s embrace.

“It is not fair.” Enjolras muttered into Grantaire’s chest. “I get to go sleep in a nice warm bed while thousands of others can’t?”

The vote that happened earlier that afternoon with the city council was the result of months of planning, campaigning and public demonstrations. The bill would have taken money out of the city’s police budget towards new supportive housing programs. It would have given thousands a better chance. It would have meant fewer people sleeping outside on cold nights like this one.

The bill didn’t pass, though.

All of those months of work went down the drain in just a moment. The disappointment had affected Enjolras more than he thought it would. He had done what he was supposed to. He had stayed and been the leader, he accomplished his job, he had given a speech about how this was just a minor defeat. He had told the gathered crowd that they couldn’t stop now, that they would win next time. But when the crowd began to disperse, and he didn’t need to hide behind a leader facade anymore…

He really had intended to only be gone a few minutes.

“You have done everything possible to help them today.” Grantaire’s comforting voice cut through Enjolras’ unpleasant memories. “Right now, the best thing to do for them is to go home and get some rest.”

“How does that help?”

“It means you can live to fight another day.” Grantaire pulled Enjolras out from his grasp. Enjolras tried not to be bitter about how quickly their moment was gone. He knew Grantaire was right about this. It was the same thing he said all the time, they had to fight on, today was not the end, but…

“It also means this bench is freed up for someone that might actually need it.”

Enjolras jumped off the park bench as if it had burnt him. How could he have not thought of that? Enjolras had been so far into his own depression he had forgotten that others weren’t as lucky as him. Some people didn’t have the option of a comfortable bed like the one he was turning down. What kind of person was he trying to take what little they did have?

“Oh shit.” Enjolras cursed as his vision blurred. He swayed as a lightheadedness took him over. Enjolras’ quick movement caused the world to begin to spin and for the second time that night Enjolras nearly took a header to the pavement.

Grantaire wasn’t about to let that happen though. He caught Enjolras by his waist and kept him up right long enough for Enjolras to regain his balance. “Don’t get up too quickly, or you will make yourself sick.”

“Is this what people call the spins?” Enjolras asked. He couldn’t recall being this dizzy from drinking before, but then again his drinking up till now had been celebrations with friends not sad nights alone in a park.

“Yes, but don’t worry, it will pass soon,” Grantaire assured with a comforting pat on the back. Grantaire hesitated for a moment before asking, “do you want to spend the night at my place?”

Enjolras’ breath caught. The last time Grantaire had asked him to, ‘spend the night,’ they had sex. Grantaire had made it clear later that he didn’t see their relationship as anything more than friends with benefits. Grantaire had turned Enjolras down when he suggested something more. That had been the end of their sexual relationship, and Enjolras respected Grantaire’s boundaries. So surely Grantaire wasn’t suggesting what Enjolras thought he was.

“What?” Enjolras asked a hitch in his breath.

“You said you didn’t want to go home.” Grantaire explained, seemingly oblivious to Enjolras’ internal panic. Perhaps he had forgotten about it all already. “My couch isn’t super comfortable, but it is something.”

Enjolras felt his chest fall in disappointment. Grantaire was just being a good friend; it was stupid for him to think it was anything else.

Enjolras forced himself to stop thinking about their old relationship and concentrate on the situation at hand. “You don’t mind?”

“You are always welcome in my home.” Grantaire said earnestly. His smile made Enjolras feel weak in his knees again. “And besides, I need to feed Boing, so going to my place instead is far more convenient. She is going to be eating dinner a whole two hours later than normal tonight.”

Grantaire’s cat, Boing, had apparently gotten her name because she was a rather hyperactive jumper. Enjolras had never met her in person, just seen the photos Grantaire enthusiastically spammed their group chat with. He had always wanted to meet the cat, but some part of him always figured his invitation to Grantaire’s apartment ended when their sex had.

“I am sure she is going to be really happy about that,” Enjolras laughed.

“I am most definitely going to be punished somehow for starving her.” 

Grantaire began to pull him along and out of the park. Walking was making Enjolras a bit dizzy, but Grantaire had his arm around Enjolras waist supporting his weight. Enjolras closed his eyes and leaned his head into Grantaire’s chest, trusting the man to make sure he didn’t walk into anything.

Grantaire seemed to confuse Enjolras quiet contentment with melancholy because he attempted comforting words again. “Try not to be sad, Enjolras. It was a close vote. All you gotta do is convince a few more folks and next time the result will be different.”

Enjolras snorted. It had been close, yes, but close didn’t matter that much when the vote boiled down to a yes or a no. It was a no, that simple. They lost; it was over. Grantaire didn’t seem willing to be dissuaded this time though.

“Convincing a few people shouldn’t be too hard for you,” Grantaire insisted. “After all you managed to convince a cynic like me to join in.”

“Since when have I convinced you?”

“Hey now,” Grantaire said, shrugging his shoulder forcing Enjolras to pull himself out of his chest and look at him. “None of that. You know how much I believe in you.”

Grantaire had said as much before, and to some degree Enjolras believed it. Despite any misgivings they had in the past, Grantaire always came to their meetings and showed up to their events, so surely something Enjolras had said over the years got through to him.

“I suppose, I just…” Enjolras’ muddled mind struggled to think of the way to phrase everything he was feeling. He let out a puff and settled on, “I just really thought that we were going to win this one.”

“I’m sorry.” Grantaire sounded so honestly apologetic, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“It’s not your fault. You were right.” It was an ugly truth that Enjolras didn’t want to face, but it was reality. If anyone was at fault here, it was Enjolras. “You are always right.”

“What? No, I wasn’t. And in what world am I always right?” Grantaire sounded almost offended at the concept of being correct about something. Enjolras would have argued that was an unhealthy way of thinking, but Grantaire didn’t give him a chance to answer. “I am the most consistently wrong person I know.”

“You _were_ right about this vote,” Enjolras argued.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“We lost,” Enjolras said, trying to regain control of a conversation that was quickly losing any logical sense. “Just like you said we would.”

“But you _almost_ won.” Grantaire corrected as if the ‘almost’ meant something. “And remember the turn out we had? Way more people came than expected. All those people were there because _you_ convinced them.”

Their turnout was good, far better than they initially thought. At the time Enjolras had taken it as a sign, believing that the turnout would be enough to convince the city council, but they weren’t swayed by the crowd at their steps.

“This is going to be in the news tomorrow. When reelections happen, they are going to be forced to bring this up again. These things take time, but you did make a difference.” Grantaire punctuated every word to show his seriousness. “I _was_ wrong.”

Film crews had been at the event, and some reporters even interviewed him, but Enjolras doubted any of that mattered much. He _really_ doubted Grantaire actually thought all that. “You don’t believe that.”

Because he liked to be as contradictory as possible, Grantaire said, “Who says I don’t?”

“You do. Frequently.” Enjolras let out a bitter laugh. Grantaire made his opinions very clear very often. While they didn’t fight like they used to, Grantaire still had opinions that often opposed Enjolras’ own. “If you believed that even losses were good for something, you wouldn’t say half the things you do.”

“That’s not why-“ Grantaire cut off his own sentence as he pulled them both to a stop. “I say a lot of shit, Enjolras. Just because I think something will fail, doesn’t mean I don’t think it is important.”

It was dark, the streetlights barely illuminated them. All Enjolras could see was the shadows filling in the contours of Grantaire’s face. But he knew that face well, had memorized and kissed every inch of it. Even drunk and in the dark he could read every one of Grantaire’s reactions. In that moment, a thousand emotions played out, guilt, sorrow, bitter self-deprivation, and perhaps, somewhere, even longing.

“Then what does it mean?” Enjolras asked. The conversation was starting to feel like the ones they used to have, where Grantaire would say something Enjolras didn’t understand that caused a fight because they were both talking about different things. Enjolras didn’t like the thought of them falling back into old habits.

“It means-“ Grantaire cut himself off again. It was clear he was having problems putting his thoughts into words. Enjolras was just glad he was taking the time to say what he really meant rather than just whatever came to mind. “I just, God, Enjolras, I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

Enjolras frowned. “You would rather my hopes be down from the start?”

“I didn’t say _that_ ,” Grantaire huffed. “I just don’t want to see you sad, like you are now.”

Seemingly realizing what he just said, Grantaire ducked his head as a blush began to crawl its way up his face.

“Why?” Enjolras asked, unable to stop his curiosity.

“Because you are my friend.” Grantaire said it like it was the most obvious thing. Enjolras supposed it was. “If you doubt that then I fucked up even more than I thought I did.”

“No, Grantaire, I don’t doubt that.” Enjolras assured him because it was true. They were friends now, their relationship before might have been a flurry of high-strung emotions and sex, but they were stable now. Comfortable. “I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry. I’m just a little” - Enjolras made a vague waving gesture in lieu of an explanation - “Right now.”

Grantaire laughed and gave Enjolras’ arm a gentle squeeze. Enjolras secretly loved that Grantaire understood what he was saying even when he wasn’t completely sure what that was himself.

“It’s okay, ” Grantaire said as he began to lead Enjolras down the sidewalk again. “But well,” Grantaire hesitated for a moment. “I was going to wait till tomorrow when you were sober to say this, but we are going to have to talk about what happened tonight.”

Enjolras groaned and buried his face into Grantaire’s jacket again. “Must we?”

“Yes.” Grantaire said, leaving no room for arguments. “What happened tonight is not healthy.”

“It was just a bad day,” Enjolras pulled his face away to look at him. “It really isn’t something to worry about.”

“This is a very unhealthy way to handle a bad day.” Grantaire insisted. Some part of Enjolras knew Grantaire was right but he didn’t like hearing it. He hated knowing that his friends were worrying about him. “Trust me when I say this is not a path you want to start walking down. You don’t need to talk to me, but you do need to talk to someone.”

“Like a therapist?”

“Ideally, yes, a therapist.” Grantaire agreed. “But right now, I would settle for Combeferre.”

“I’ll think about it.” Enjolras said, in an attempt to end the conversation. He knew this wouldn’t be the end, that Grantaire _would_ bring this up again. And considering the fact that all his friends had been running around the city looking for him tonight, he had no doubt that the others would want to talk to him about this too.

“I just worry about you,” Grantaire said with a sigh. “I know how much of yourself you put into these projects. I know you are sad, and you have a right to be, but-”

Enjolras let out an angry puff of hot air.

“I’m not sad. I am pissed.” Enjolras corrected vehemently, “I am angry at politicians who won’t listen and the people who don’t care till it affects them and the fact that our world functions like this in the first place.” With each word Enjolras’ voice seemed to get louder. He straightened up, standing taller rather than slouching in Grantaire’s arms. The fire in his spirit returned with his anger at the vote’s outcome. “There are so many bad things happening all the time, but I really think we can do some good.”

Enjolras looked over at Grantaire, who had a big grin splitting his face in two. “What are you smiling about?”

“I am just happy to see the Enjolras I know come back.” Grantaire nudged him, and Enjolras felt himself blush. “And for the record, we _can_ do good. As a matter of fact, we _often_ do. Don’t let one loss make you forget all the victories.”

Without thinking, Enjolras admitted, “I like it when you use the word ‘us.’”

Perhaps it was silly, but moments like this reminded Enjolras of what Grantaire had been like years ago when he used to try and separate himself from the Amis as much as possible, despite showing up at all their meetings. When they were in university, he refused to be on the club’s official registrar but now…

“What?” Grantaire asked, turning to look at Enjolras in confusion.

“You never used to do that,” Enjolras clarified. “You would refer to us as, ‘the Amis,’ or, ‘them,’ always excluding yourself from the group as if you weren’t a member. But now you say, ‘we,’ and ‘us.’ I really like that.”

This time it was Grantaire’s turn to blush. His face heated up as a darkness spread across his features, barely visible in the streetlights, but clear as day to Enjolras. Grantaire muttered some incoherent response.

Grantaire ducked his head and pulled Enjolras along. “Come on, we are here, and it is cold outside.”

Enjolras looked up at the apartment building in front of him. He hadn’t noticed how close to Grantaire’s apartment they already were; he had been distracted by the conversation and the way Grantaire’s face looked in the moonlight.

“When I open the door, get inside quickly okay?” Grantaire said as he played with the lock on his door. “Boing is always trying to jump out the open door, so I have to be careful.”

Enjolras nodded his understanding. When Grantaire opened the door, Enjolras let himself be ushered in quickly.

When Enjolras stepped inside, he was hit with a warm wall of air. Grantaire kept his apartment much warmer than Enjolras kept his when he was out, but then Grantaire had a pet. The apartment was cluttered but in a warmed, lived in way. There was a laundry basket on the floor from where he obviously started to fold the clothes but got distracted halfway through. On the kitchen counter were two sketchbooks which had no business being so close to food. And of course, on the couch, there was Boing, kneading at the blankets.

“Boing, are you scratching up the blankets again?” Grantaire asked as if she was capable of understanding a thing he said.

She gave a loud displeased meow and jumped off of the couch and stalked towards Grantaire with the confidence of a being who was in change and knew it.

“I know, I know, you want dinner,” Grantaire said as he took off his coat. He turned to hang up his coat by the door, but all Boing saw was her owner attempting to leave again without feeding her. She jumped up and bit at his calf to keep him inside.

“Ouch!” Grantaire hissed in pain. “Bitch Nugget! Cut it out!”

Grantaire muttered complaints under his breath but followed Boing obediently into the kitchen to get the food.

“Bitch Nugget?” Enjolras asked, eyebrows raised. “I thought her name was Boing?”

“It is,” Grantaire said as he scooped out some dry cat food into a bowl. “At least most of the time.”

For about a month after Grantaire got Boing, Enjolras thought he had adopted two cats because he frequently referred to his cat both as, “Boing,” and, “Bitch Nugget.” Enjolras had figured out they were one and the same eventually, but he never did get a good answer.

“When she is being mean and biting me, she is Bitch Nugget.” Grantaire hissed his words out in Boing’s direction. Boing predictably ignored him and munched happily on her dinner. “When she is being nice and cuddly, she is Boing.”

Grantaire reached out and gave her a soft pet on her head. Boing let out a loud happy purr, Grantaire’s earlier sin seemingly forgiven.

Enjolras was struck then by just how beautiful Grantaire was. He wanted to pull out his phone and capture this moment, but he didn’t dare blink for fear of missing a second of this. Grantaire had a soft sweet smile on his face as he patted Boing’s soft furry back.

Grantaire looked happy. Enjolras had gotten used to this over the last year or so; he often looked happy now, but he didn’t think the sight would ever not take his breath away.

It had been about two years since Enjolras had been alone with Grantaire in his apartment. Looking at these familiar walls, Enjolras couldn’t help but think back to those times. Enjolras licked his lips. He remembered clearly the things they had done in this very room. The things he longed to do again.

Grantaire had turned him down before and Enjolras respected that, but tonight Enjolras was drunk and lonely and Grantaire was so beautiful.

Enjolras hadn’t intended to kiss Grantaire; it just happened. One moment Grantaire was getting up from the floor where he was petting Boing, the next Enjolras had smashed their lips together.

Enjolras pressed forward till Grantaire’s back hit the edge of the counter. Grantaire made a gasp of surprise at the movement. Enjolras took the opportunity to slip his tongue between Grantaire’s lips.

Distantly, Enjolras expected Grantaire to reject him again, but he didn’t. Grantaire pressed back into Enjolras wrapping his arms around Enjolras’ back and kissing back with everything he had.

It was different than their last kiss two years ago. For one thing, Grantaire didn’t taste like stale beer and his face was freshly shaved. Enjolras found himself missing the way the stubble had chafed his skin. But the important things were exactly the same. The way Grantaire tilted his head to allow Enjolras as much access as possible. The way he threaded his fingers between Enjolras’ hair, the warmth of his embrace.

It was nostalgic and exciting and all Enjolras wanted to do was to keep going. For just one evening he wanted to relive what they used to have. It wasn’t a good decision, friends with benefits had already broken his heart once after all, but at that moment Enjolras didn’t care. It might not have been healthy, but it meant so much to him.

One of Enjolras’ hands found its way to Grantaire’s chest and began to trace the lines of Grantaire’s muscles. If he closed his eyes, he could remember exactly what Grantaire’s looked like without this shirt on. In his mind, Enjolras could see Grantaire naked beneath him, he could remember every sound Grantaire used to make. He wanted to hear those little gasps and moans again.

Enjolras wanted to reclaim what they used to have, even if only for a night - he wanted to _feel_ Grantaire again.

Enjolras pressed his thigh between Grantaire’s legs, pressing up against his clothed cock. He could feel the budge beginning to harden. Grantaire had always been quick to get hard; it didn’t take much more than a long kiss for him to be a begging mess. Enjolras had always found it flattering that he was able to get such a raise out of Grantaire.

Enjolras pulled away from Grantaire’s lips, leaving the man dazed and panting. He began to kiss Grantaire’s jaw,moving his way down Grantaire’s neck. Grantaire tilted his head to the side and let out a sigh of pleasure.

“I wanna blow you,” Enjolras whispered into Grantaire’s neck.

Grantaire stilled under his ministrations, his breath catching in his throat. “Wait.” Grantaire placed his hands on Enjolras’ shoulders and gently but firmly pushed him away, “I can’t do this.”

It felt like a bucket of ice-cold water had been tipped over him. Enjolras felt white-hot guilt take over him. Grantaire had made it clear years ago that he wasn’t interested in Enjolras like that, and yet here was Enjolras forcing himself on him.

“Shit, I’m-“ Enjolras took two quick steps back,hitting his back against the kitchen counter. “I am so sorry Grantaire.”

Grantaire looked a bit dazed still, but his breathing had returned to its normal rate. “Hey, it's fine, I’m not upset.”

It shouldn’t have surprised Enjolras that the first thing Grantaire did after being touched without consent was attempt to mitigate Enjolras’ guilt.

“I am sorry,” Enjolras said. The guilt that crawled up his throat was threatening to choke him. “That was wrong of me.”

Grantaire waved off his comment with a laugh. “It’s not a big deal Enjolras,” Grantaire rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick he never managed to kick. Enjolras tried not to be distracted by the memory of his lips lingering in that same spot just moments ago. “We both got a bit carried away there.”

Enjolras wasn’t going to let Grantaire just laugh this off though. What he had done was wrong. If they didn’t work it out now, it would fester, a dark, awkward mark on their friendship. They had worked far too long to get to where they were, Enjolras wouldn’t let an awkward moment tear them apart.

“You don’t have to pretend to not be mad just because I had a bad day,” Enjolras explained. It was nice that Grantaire thought to try and spare his feelings, but it was ultimately unnecessary. Enjolras was determined to make sure Grantaire knew that he respected boundaries and that such a mistake wouldn’t happen again. “I know you don’t feel the same way I do.”

“’Feel the same?’” Grantaire repeated, some strange sense of wonder in his tone. “You mean even after all this time you still…?”

Enjolras figured that it should have been embarrassing to still be caught up on the same person two years later, especially when they hadn’t even really been dating in the first place. He wasn’t embarrassed, though. Of course, he was still in love with Grantaire. How could anyone _not_ be in love with Grantaire?

“Combeferre always said I was bullheaded.” Enjolras shrugged his shoulders bashfully. He hasn’t intended to be confessing this tonight. Perhaps he could blame it on the alcohol. “Once I decide how I feel about something, I don’t change my mind.”

“Enjolras, I-” Grantaire’s voice soft, careful, and Enjolras knew he was about to be turned down again.

“Please don't, okay?” Enjolras interrupted, unwilling to have the same conversation they had years ago. It hurt enough hearing it once. “I meant what I said before, I don’t expect anything from you, and I don’t want this to change our relationship. I want to remain friends without making things awkward for you.”

It was true, whatever Enjolras’ heart might want, he was determined to remain friends with Grantaire. If that meant ignoring his feelings, so be it. But more than anything he didn’t want Grantaire to leave again. He remembered that month after Grantaire turned him down. Grantaire had said he was ‘traveling,’ but none of them ever knew where he was or what he was doing. Not knowing if Grantaire was safe, and knowing he left _because_ of Enjolras… It was enough to rob Enjolras of sleep most nights and he wasn’t going to let it happen again. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to go run away for a month again.”

The confession seemed to take Grantaire by surprise. He looked at Enjolras blankly for a moment before shuffling his feet awkwardly. “We never really talked about that, did we?”

They hadn’t, but in Enjolras’ opinion there wasn’t much to say. They were friends who had sex sometimes, Enjolras brought emotions into it and that made Grantaire uncomfortable. He left. It was a rather straightforward series of events.

“You want some coffee?” Grantaire offered as he turned around to fiddle with his coffee maker.

Enjolras always loved coffee, but Combeferre was trying to get him to cut back on his late-night cups. “It is a bit late for coffee.”

Grantaire turned to him, eyebrows raised. He knew Enjolras far too well.

“Okay, yes, I want a cup,” Enjolras conceded. “But if ‘Ferre yells at me I am blaming you.”

“Don’t worry, I already have one med student bugging me on my caffeine habits,” Grantaire laughed. “Why don’t you go sit down,” Grantaire gestured to his small cluttered kitchen table. “We can have a drink and talk.”

In truth, Enjolras wanted nothing less than to have this conversation, but he sat down obediently anyways. A minute later Grantaire passed him a steaming mug that Enjolras took gladly.

“Now that I think about it, you need to have some water before you go to bed,” Grantaire said as he took the seat across from Enjolras. “Otherwise you will have a dreadful hangover in the morning.”

Enjolras nodded his agreement and took a sip of coffee.

“I should have told you this before, but I didn’t, and I am sorry for any stress it caused you, but it is important to me that you know it now.” Grantaire began talking, but Enjolras didn’t have it in him to look at his face. Instead he watched the steam raise from his coffee cup. “I didn’t- l didn’t leave because you asking me out made me uncomfortable.”

Enjolras huffed. He didn’t want Grantaire to lie and spare his feelings, he could take rejection. “Then why did you leave?”

“I wasn’t running away from _you_.” Grantaire insisted, his voice had grown nervous, almost fragile. “I was in rehab.”

“What?” Enjolras asked, his eyes snapping up to meet Grantaire’s.

“Joly set it up for me.” Grantaire shrugged in an attempt to keep the rising tension at bay. “He was trying to convince me to go for a while but when you… it just seemed like the right time.”

It made sense then, when Grantaire had returned from his trip was also when he stopped drinking. At the time Enjolras hadn’t thought much of it, he was just so glad that Grantaire had returned and was so scared of saying something that would piss him off and make him leave again. If anything, he thought that Grantaire’s traveling had been too expensive for him to keep up his drinking habits. He later realized that Grantaire had been serious about getting his life together, and Enjolras had nothing but respect for all the effort Grantaire put into it, but that first month or so after Grantaire’s return, Enjolras really hadn’t thought anything about Grantaire’s drinking.

“Joly never said anything.” Enjolras knew that Grantaire’s private health was none of his business but at the same time, he wished that Joly had said something. Enjolras had spent most of that month panicking for Grantaire’s wellbeing.

“I asked him not to.” Grantaire took a sip of his coffee, probably an attempt to stall for time as he thought out how to phrase what he wanted to say. “Back then I didn’t think I could face everyone again if you knew so I asked him to keep it a secret.” Grantaire had a small earnest smile on his face as he said, “he is a good friend like that.”

“I am proud of you.” Enjolras reached out across the table and placed his hand on top of Grantaire. More than anything he wanted Grantaire to know just how true that statement was. He was so very proud of Grantaire. He had worked so hard to get to where he was and had blossomed into one of the most amazing people Enjolras had ever met. “I don’t think I ever told you that, but I am. I can’t imagine how hard quitting was for you, but I am so proud of you.”

Grantaire seemed a bit embarrassed at the compliment. He ducked his head in a vain attempt to hide a flush that was spreading across his cheeks, but he didn’t try to pull his hand away from Enjolras’.

“Believe it or not, it wasn’t the hardest thing I have ever done,” Grantaire shyly confessed. He looked back up to meet Enjolras’ eyes. “Turning you down was. Enjolras, I have been in lov-“ Grantaire cut himself off before he could finish the thought, but Enjolras thought he knew what the man had almost said. “I have liked you for a long time Enjolras. Probably since I first meet you.”

Enjolras’ heart was nearly beating out of his chest. “You said you weren’t interested.”

Grantaire hesitated, then looked down at their clasped hands.

“I was really messed up back then. I was in a bad place mentally and I knew that I would destroy any relationship I had,” Grantaire admitted. Enjolras gave their clasped hands a quick squeeze of encouragement, which earned him a small smile from Grantaire. “If I had said yes, our relationship would have crashed and burned. I would have tried to push you away to keep you from breaking my heart or I would have gotten drunk and said something awful to you. It would have been unhealthy and codependent as fuck.”

Enjolras knew of the problems that Grantaire had, but he never considered how his relationship with Grantaire would affect things. Grantaire was so very depressed back then. It had killed Enjolras to watch him suffer and without being able to do anything about it. The reminder made Enjolras’ heart ache and once again made him glad for how much progress Grantaire had made in the last couple of years.

“When you asked me out, I saw our future flash before my eyes and I knew that by the time our relationship ended, and it would have ended, we would hate each other.” Grantaire’s voice broke, a small sob almost made its way out. Grantaire’s hand was gripping Enjolras’ tightly, his knuckles nearly turned white. “And I couldn’t allow that to happen. You mean far too much for me to let that happen.”

Enjolras took a moment to let that revelation sink in. Grantaire had ended their relationship in an attempt to _save_ it. Enjolras didn’t know what to think about that. In some way he hated it, he wanted to stand by Grantaire in his darkest moments. But at the same time, he could see the wisdom in Grantaire’s words. He couldn’t say with certainty that things wouldn’t have ended exactly as Grantaire thought they would.

“Do you know the tip AA gives people about romance in recovery?” Grantaire asked looking back up at Enjolras hesitantly.

Enjolras shook his head. He didn’t know anything about AA, now he wished he had done more research. He wished he had been there to help Grantaire.

“They say that you should buy a plant, and if after a year the plant is alive and well, you should get a pet.” Grantaire turned his head to look at Boing who had jumped up on top of the refrigerator and was surveying the room below her like a queen. The sight made Grantaire smile a bit before he turned back to Enjolras. “If after another year both the plant and the pet are healthy, then you are ready to start a relationship.”

“You adopted Boing a year ago,” Enjolras said, as the realization dawned on him.

“Not a year,” Grantaire corrected. “Eleven months. The 5th will be the anniversary of the day I adopted her.”

For once Enjolras didn’t think he was misunderstanding Grantaire’s words. After all only moments ago, Grantaire had almost said, ‘love,’ hadn’t he? “How did you know I would still feel the same way two years later?”

“I didn’t.” Grantaire said simply. “Honestly, I thought you would be over it by the time I got back from rehab, and you never brought it up so…” Grantaire shrugged again, but Enjolras’ mind was whirling. All this time, Grantaire thought that Enjolras was over their relationship. “I was fine with you falling in love with someone else as long as it meant we could still be friends. More than anything I wanted to keep you in my life.”

It was the same sentiment Enjolras had been thinking to himself just moments before. He was willing to keep his heart hidden away if it meant that he could remain in Grantaire’s life. Enjolras didn’t quite know how to do relationships correctly. He could be too blunt and rude, and often got trapped in the pitfall of always thinking he was right. He wasn’t sure he understood love completely, but he was pretty sure he knew it when he saw it.

After all, what was love if not wanting to be in someone’s life even if not in the way you dreamed about?

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said seriously, bringing Grantaire’s attention back to him. “What are you doing on the 5th next month?”

“Joly is throwing Boing a birthday party,” Grantaire said with a laugh, smiling at his friend’s antics. “At least that is what he is going to tell everyone. Really he just wants me to celebrate two years of sobriety.”

Was this Grantaire’s way of turning him down gently? Saying that he was busy? Enjolras swallowed dryly. “Oh.”

“You are drunk,” Grantaire said as he let go of Enjolras’ hand and picked up their empty coffee mugs. “So, don’t answer right now, but I am free on the 12th if you wanted?”

Grantaire sounded hesitant, nervous that Enjolras might turn him down. But, Enjolras’ heart soared.

“I would love to.” Enjolras said earnestly. It had been a long two years, but he was more than willing to wait however long Grantaire needed. Another month was nothing.

“I _just_ said don’t answer right now,” Grantaire said as he returned to the table with a glass of water for Enjolras. “I am not going to hold you to things you agree to when you are drunk.”

It was sweet, and Enjolras appreciated the consideration, but he knew what he felt by now. “I am sure.”

“Well, if you change your mind when you sober up, I understand.” Grantaire said as he patted Enjolras’ shoulder comfortingly.

“I won’t change my mind,” Enjolras said seriously.

The very corner of Grantaire’s lips curled into an almost smile, as if he didn’t want to get his hopes up too high.

“Come on,” Grantaire gestured, waving Enjolras into his bedroom. “You can take the bed.”

“I am not taking your bed,” Enjolras said. Rather than follow Grantaire, he turned and walked into the living room.

Enjolras plopped himself down on Grantaire’s couch and attempted to make himself comfortable. It was a bit difficult; Grantaire hadn’t been lying about his couch.

“I really don’t mind,” Grantaire said, looming over the couch. Enjolras wasn’t going to be intimidated though: he was decided not to steal Grantaire’s bed.

“I am not moving.”

A minute later Grantaire returned with a blanket that he laid out over Enjolras. It had been a long night, and now that he was laying down, the exhaustion had finally gotten to Enjolras. He attempted to say thank you, but it likely came out as nonsense.

In the darkness of the room, Grantaire whispered, “Goodnight, Enjolras.”

_Walk me home in the dead of night_

_I can't be alone with all that's on my mind_

_So say you'll stay with me tonight_

_'Cause there is so much wrong, there is so much wrong_

_There is so much wrong goin' on outside_

_\- Walk Me Home by P!nk_

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t believe I used the ‘there was only one bed’ trope and then didn’t even have them share the bed. What is wrong with me?
> 
> Don’t worry everyone, they are going to be okay, they just need a bit more time. Someday they are going to be so happy and healthy, trust me.


End file.
